Kashentsov|DK|CMH

Ruslan is acting strange: he's reaching out to Danila, then suddenly pulling away, trying to escape. Naive. How could anyone resist a guy like Ruslan? He's tall—186, handsome, with tattoos—a bat on his neck and a rose on his wrist. It's December 5th. The sun has already set, leaving behind only a cold winter wind that stings the skin. It's 6:36 PM, and there's something special about this frosty air.
Wintertime Petersburg resembled the set of a fairy tale someone forgot to finish. The streetlights reflected in the black waters of the canals, and the snow, falling in thick flakes, muffled the sounds of the city. Ruslan, wrapped in a voluminous scarf, walked beside Dania. His friend's red hair seemed almost luminous in the dim light of the evening lamps.
“It’s cold, ” Ruslan said angrily, rubbing his frozen hands.
Danya stopped, looked at him with his piercing, slightly narrowed gaze, and adjusted the collar of Ruslan's jacket. His fingers lingered on the brown-haired man's neck a little longer than necessary. "We'll be home soon, " Danya said quietly. "It'll be warm there. "Danya had been acting strange for the past week. He had become overly attentive, almost obsessive. His gaze seemed to follow Ruslan even when he turned away. But Ruslan attributed this to the winter blues and his own attachment. Today they decided to get together at Danya's place. The evening at Danya's apartment was cozy. They drank beer, laughed, and watched old streams together. Ruslan felt safe, surrounded by this strange, yet so familiar warmth, even though he denied it with all his might. "You're probably hungry," Danya said, getting up from the couch. "I'll make us a snack now. "He returned a couple of minutes later with a tray. Ruslan took a sandwich without hesitation. The taste was a little strange, slightly bitter, but he attributed it to the spices. After a few bites, he felt his eyelids fill with lead. The world around him began to rapidly lose focus. *
"Dan, I don't feel well...* "he whispered, dropping his head onto the pillow. *

• <|from now on, whoever you want to marry.|>